Familia ante ceteros
by Impromptu1135
Summary: Tom Sr. raises his son. And as Tom Marvolo Riddle grows up he learns that love is both a creator and destroyer, good can be bad, friends betrayers, and ultimately fate chooses a villain more evil than he. AU.
1. Prologue

Summary: Tom Sr. returns to his family only to realize he had made a mistake…leaving all he knows he decides to raise his son with a firm hand. But fate decides to bring a terror more evil than Voldemort in his son's stead. AU

**A/N: This story will start from the birth of Tom Marvolo Riddle to the end of Harry's seventh year.**

Prologue

(At the Riddle Manor)

They laughed, drank wine, smoked cigars, and danced…Tom thought he could have lost himself forever in this world. At least a year ago he thought he could.

"Tom, what are you thinking?" The lady who whispered softly in his ear all night asked her soft skin brushing against him.

"About loneliness…pity," his tone somber, his looks grave, she recoiled a scowl clear on her visage. Tom sighed heavily before standing up, her hand reached out to him but he swatted it back. He looked at her disgusted at himself for ever touching her blonde hair or looking into her green eyes which momentarily flashed grey and the image of Merope's horrified stare when he decided to leave came back to him.

"Tom!"

He ran through the crowded ballroom to the hallway his father was by the entrance saying goodbye to a couple of guest who were leaving hoping to escape with them Tom attempted to leave at their side.

"Son, where are you going?"

His attempt failed turning to his father who stood by the door staring at his son who was at the foot of the steps little by little being drenched by the rain that had only begun to pour.

"What are you doing, son?" His eyes looked painfully at him.

"You always taught me," Tom began looking forward his fist clenched "if I could take responsibility for my actions it would make me a better man."

His father could make out the side of his son's face, determined he was it took him aback to see such a countenance on his young boy. Baffled he could only mumble, "But its New Years…"

What happened next he would remember forty years later in his deathbed with pride and tears he was sorry he had not shown his son when he had the chance to. Tom Riddle smiled sheepishly at him.

"Sorry, Dad. I don't think I'll be coming back."

He didn't know where he was going at first, wondering what had suddenly come over him he was both scared and excited at the idea. Hoping that his parents would be proud of him when he settled down with his new wife and unborn child strengthened his resolve. He boarded a ten o'clock train to his old flat in London where he believed he and Merope resided. When he arrived he was surprised to see the apartment abandoned. The landlord had shouted at him for intruding but told him after much persistence on Tom's part the directions to an Orphanage where he last saw Merope ten blocks away.

"Thank you, thank you," Tom bowed repeatedly out of breath and flushed from the lack of protection from the ruthless rainstorm.

The Orphanage was the only building lit on the block and it was easy for him to spot. Barely containing his glee upon its discovery he opened the door before knocking which frightened the young nuns near the entrance.

"I'm sorry to intrude," Tom exhaled sharply, "but is Merope—Gaunt here?"

The nuns looked at each other before one stepped forward her head bowed, "Please come with me sir."

He nodded and followed her trying not to exceed her steps.

"Are you the father?" She asked somewhat harshly.

"Yes—yes, has she already given birth?"

"She's in labor right now…but I suggest that you do not scare her with your presence."

He cocked an eyebrow not liking her tone but said nothing against it when the nun gestured him to the door where Merope was most likely giving birth to his child. As he walked in an agonizing scream pierced his ears.

"Merope? Merope!" He lunged towards the curtain that veiled Merope's bed, the nun tried to restrain him but he shoved her out of his way. Pulling the curtain back he fell to his knees his head on Merope's stomach.

"Is this the father?" The mid wife looked at him curiously holding the child in her hands.

Tom now had Merope's head in his hands shaking her hoping to God that her eyes would open to embrace him. "Wake up," he spoke softly, "I'm here, I'll take care of you and our child, I promise. I was such a fool." How come he never noticed before how her skin glowed? His tears rolled down his face and on her cheeks that turned deathly white.

"Mr. Riddle?"

He looked back at the midwife who gave his son to one of the nuns to bathe, "Before she died she said she'd like to name the child, Tom Marvolo Riddle, after you I assume."

He nodded his head turning back to the woman whom he held fiercely in his arms, "Yes—yes, whatever she wants…"

* * *

_Thank you for reading the prologue to my story. Please review and tell me what you think. I want this to chronicle Tom Riddle Jr.'s entire life...so I hope you'll join me. _


	2. Chapter 1: A Father's love

**A/N: **Many thanks to _notwolf, tambrathegreat, R.T, Felius, themagasora, En-En-chan, _and_ Phoenix-Fire Power _for reviewing!

**Chapter 1**: A Father's love

"Mr. Riddle!"

"What is it, Emma?" He asked agitatedly, he was already late for work, his hands working overtime to fix his tie.

"Mr. Riddle!" She repeated her shrill voice now in the same room with him.

"Now, Emma, tell me what seems to be the problem?" His eyes still directed at the mirror, he let out a huff before giving up altogether, "Damn thing…"

"It's your son!"

"When is it not?"

"He won't eat, he won't play, he doesn't like my stories…"

"Oh, Emma," he playfully chided, giving her a mock scowl, "can't blame a boy for not liking your stories."

"It's not that Mr. Riddle!" she was now speaking feverishly, "Tom is just strange!"

His cheeriness now transformed into a serious stare, "What are you implying?"

"Mr. Riddle," her features now returned to their natural color, her chubby face at present beaded with sweat which she patted with a handkerchief, "I'm sorry, but Tom is different, the way he talks…it frightens me..."

"But you can't leave," he shook his head taking her by the hand, "I need you here Emma. Tom can't have another nanny leave. You've been here for nearly two years."

"But Mr. Riddle—"

"Stay," his eyes pleaded with her, it was a magnetic pull which she could not turn away from. She sighed before reaching out her hands to fix his tie.

"Thank you, Emma."

"Remember Mr. Riddle I am doing this for your son's sake so don't you go eyeing me like that again."

The corners of her mouth twisted up a little Tom Sr. chuckled heartily, "You're a good woman Emma. You remind me so much of my mother."

"Dad," a young boy's voice appeared suddenly and a head popped in.

"Son, come in," his father motioned for him to come closer.

Tom Marvolo Riddle walked in confidently dressed in a pair of khaki shorts, a blue vest and a brown and white striped shirt with a blue bow. His hair was much like his father's black in small waves neatly parted more on one side than the other. He was thin, tall and a bit pale in complexion due to the lack of nutrition but it was evident to all who knew him, he was the replica of his father.

"Excited are you? Your birthday's today," his father smiled brightly kneeling down on one knee to pat the boy's head and squeeze his shoulders, "you'll be ten years old do you feel any older?"

"Nope," Tom grinned, closing one eye when he felt his father squeeze his shoulders.

"Emma and the other maids will be busy with the preparations for the party so please do your best not to disturb them." His father tapped his cheek and winked at him before standing up and smoothing over the creases on his jacket.

Emma and Tom followed him to the door stopping at the threshold he swooped down to hug Tom tightly in his arms.

"Your mother…would be so proud." He grasped Tom's shoulders and pushed him gently away so that he might look directly into his eyes to repress any of his son's doubts of his sincerity.

"Mum…" Tom rolled the foreign word off his tongue with brief nostalgia.

He kissed his son lightly on the forehead and with a nod to Emma walked down the porch steps and turning left walked to work with buoyancy.

Tom looked on with a frown before Emma ushered him back into the house. Sitting him in the kitchen dining table where the other servants were busily preparing for the party. Besides the celebration of Tom Riddle Jr.'s birthday his father had been planning a New Year's Party which many of his acquaintances had urged of him to do since he was new to the neighborhood. His son was constantly reminded of this 'newness'. The maids always talked.

"Can you believe that Mr. Riddle started out with so little," one of the young servants chimed with admiration.

Emma snorted at the girl's obvious remark, "Of course, Mr. Riddle belonged to a wealthy family he was bound to make a name for himself here…they always know where the money is."

Tom tried to block out their voices to no avail they spoke rather loudly from the next room as if to make sure he was listening.

"Poor Mr. Riddle though, having to leave his family like that. I catch him sometimes, you know, with that sad smile when people ask him."

"Do not dare pity him Amelia, he has a son! A brilliant beautiful boy, awkward but I must say he makes his father proud."

They ceased to talk after that, Tom hopped off the stool as the doorbell rang the gardeners outside were making such a ruckus he doubted Emma would hear. Walking to the door himself he could see a lady and a child by the window. Before she could ring again he opened the door.

"Oh, sorry!" A tall blonde woman stood in front of him slightly embarrassed and disappointed, "Does Mr. Riddle live here?"

Tom paused before answering trying to catch her eye that hid well beneath her hat tilted one way and covering most of her right eye. He raised his hand to shake hers before gesturing her into his home.

"My father's Tom Riddle Sr. you may come in if you like."

She moved her head just a bit so that he could make out both her eyes that seemed to question him, "So you're Mr. Riddle's son?"

"Yes," he replied politely.

Quickly, her expression changed and she shook hands with him again and stooped down to his level. "I'm Cecilia…and this is my daughter, Natalie. Oh it's a pleasure to finally meet you! I'm so sorry to intrude, but I hoped I might stay here until your father returns. You know when we were younger your father and I were—well we were very close. You look just like him!"

Tom just nodded, by the time she had taken a moment of silence they were in the kitchen and he had introduced the maids to the unexpected guest. He now looked at the girl who was about his age she looked a lot like her mother.

She smiled when she saw his eyes on her. Tom looked back amused like an adult looking at a small child.

* * *

Tom Riddle Sr. had signed the last letter and now sunk back into his chair exhausted and ready to go home. He looked out the window the sun was nearly down, an indication it was time to back home. He waved good bye to the junior manager who was closing up the bank and briskly exited the large doors with relief. Walking happily down the street, he noticed a rather large white owl on the iron fence directly on the other side of the road. Many people didn't seem to be aware which was odd as they walked on by. Tom kept on walking but with an askance glance every once in a while spotting the bird hopping and flying every few blocks to catch up.

He gave it one last stare before turning the corner. The bird, taking the hint, began flapping its wings and flew in the opposite direction. Against his better judgment he looked behind him in time to collide into another person.

"My apologies," Tom muttered before looking up at the person he had bumped into.

"Fancy bumping into you here Tom!"

He looked up and immediately recognized the man along with the woman he was with, "Septimus and Cedrella, this is quite a coincidence."

"Indeed," Septimus continued after an awkward silence but with a sincere smile, "I was just going to check out the shops before heading to your place with my fiancé, you remember her right? You've been so helpful with our transition to a bigger bank…"

"Then why don't you come with me to my home, the shops can wait," Tom beamed and the couple delightedly accompanied him. It was only a few blocks away and they had much to talk about. It was like a fresh breath of air being with them he had never met anyone quite like them. When they arrived at his house Emma had taken their coats.

"Where's my son?" Tom smiled at Emma, "My guest would like to see him and I am eager as well to show him where I've hidden his present." He sent Emma to fetch his son too excited to hear her out when she started about some other guests.

"Please hurry," he pleaded with her as he scurried Septimus and his fiancé to the drawing room.

"I really have to show you my collection—" Tom hadn't stepped into the room yet before shrinking back in astonishment, "Cecilia?" She had been gliding her fingers across his array of books and turned around in equal surprise.

"I hope we're not intruding on a reunion of some sort," Septimus chuckled uncomfortably.

"No, no not at all!" Tom returned his attention to his guest who stood just beyond the door inside the room which he still had not entered.

"Um, if you're looking for your son he's upstairs showing my daughter around," Cecilia added giving Tom a chance to regain his composure.

"Marvelous! Let me get them then, if you don't mind Mr. Weasley, Miss Black, I'm sure my other guest can entertain you while I go find them." Tom regressed to the old formalities before turning on his foot and pacing across the hall and up the stairs. His son had left the door to his room half open. The light was on and voices came from within signaling him to knock on the door. "Come in," came the polite voice of the boy he had unmistakably raised with good manners.

He poked his head in first before entering, his son had a storybook open and was just in the middle of reading to Cecilia's daughter as it were. She was laying on the bed intent on Tom Jr. who sat on a chair beside the bed imitating the way his father sat when he read him stories.

"_Tom_," his father whispered loud enough for him to hear, he looked up and smiled before closing the book.

"Is that all of the story?" The little girl stared at the boy with large green eyes he jumped off the chair before patting her head and helping her down, "For now."

"Who's your little friend?" His father asked as they made their way down the stairs.

"_Her_ name is Natalie," Tom replied curtly by the time they reached the downstairs hall half of his father's guest were already at the entrance and the maids were busily taking the coats of the sudden swarm of company.

Tom Jr. decided to roam on his own catching the site of a couple who seemed to stand out from the crowd. A man, his father's age, with dark red hair wearing a green suit and small rectangular spectacles accompanying a pretty younger lady with black hair and very dark eyes wearing a knee long tight black dress. Their style of clothes alone stood out. His intent stare as he walked towards them was finally met half way across the room. Septimus beamed proudly at the boy.

"Well hello there, Happy Birthday Tom!" Septimus shook his hand vigorously while Tom firmly tried to keep himself upright.

"It's nice to meet you Tom," Cedrella took his hand and another hand clasped his arm tenderly.

He really didn't have anything to say to them in particular but Septimus had stopped Tom before he could leave pulling out a small parcel from inside of his jacket, "For your birthday," Tom looked distrustful, "Your father has been very good to us."

After brief hesitation Tom opened the small package excitedly but was surprised to find what he had uncovered was just a worthless locket.

"Your father was telling me a story about your mother one day and about a locket she used to wear, he was very upset he could never retrieve it…I found it one day and decided to buy it myself, it fit the description perfectly…" Septimus Weasley looked at the boy's bowed head he seemed to grasp it tighter as he went on. He glanced at his fiancé who nodded back at him it was possible that Tom would someday be a wizard his mother had definitely been a witch if she knew the way to Knockturn Alley. However the locket's origins were as unknown to Tom as they were to Septimus and Cedrella.

"How did you find it?" Tom demanded more than asked.

"While we were shopping in a little shady part of London," Cedrella lightly lied, "At a pawn shop I had sold something there and wanted it back and I found this locket in that store."

"Thank you, sir." He looked at Septimus with slightly more respect than before.

The clanging of glasses commenced and Tom looked on to see his father in the middle of the ballroom not far beyond making a toast, the blond haired woman next to him with her admiring gaze. He clutched the locket in his hand watching as her arm slyly crossed his chest. As everyone resumed dancing and talking she continued blatantly to captivate him. His father didn't seem please though and repeatedly struggled to shake her off.

It didn't seem to be that serious though but there was a determination in Tom he had never known, something that escaped from him formerly in a state of latency and manifested itself in his mind, a sort of electric pulse. His spine tingling, and his head racing with a singular thought, narrowing his eyes on his target an invisible bullet was cast hitting Cecilia dead on.

* * *

"Ladies and Gentlemen, please, settle down now!" Tom stood on top of a small stool, raising his glass, "I hope this upcoming New Year will bring love, happiness, and prosperity to you all though dark times may come to past we will always have our friends and our family. Cheers." Tom looked down at Cecilia as he jumped off the stool. Her arm slowly glided over his chest.

"Dance with me Tom?"

"No, I don't think so Cecilia," he removed her arm knowing that glint in her eyes and the way her arm brushed against his chest. She murmured something inaudible and Tom took it as a cue to leave her but she grasped his shoulders in another attempt to catch his attention.

"Tom, Tom, look at me!" She was now glaring at him he observed as his attention reverted back to her but his eyes held nothing but a dull blank stare filled with lassitude. "Why are you like this?"

"I'm glad you came Cecilia you traveled a long way but I didn't expect you to be the same licentious girl I knew before. It seems being an aristocrat these days doesn't grant all adults respectability." He could see it in her eyes, she could have nearly slapped him for that remark her hand raised to the level of her chest. But no, her green eyes were no longer inflamed by his insults but a cool snobbish smirk plagued her lips.

"Respectability…? How ever did that word cross your mind," she cackled, this was truly her nature, standing a few feet from each other no one had seemed to notice Tom's humiliation was meant for only the two of them alone. She continued vehemently, "Marrying that little beggar girl…you thought it so noble? Producing a bastard? You are a _sick, sick_ man," her voice lowered as she uttered the last few words, "her family has been nothing but a curse in Little Hangleton but of course you wouldn't know that would you. You—"

He squinted unsure if his eyes were seeing correctly, Cecilia had been interrupted with a sudden spread of boils. She quickly clasped her forehead and then her hands ran frantically around her face before letting out an awful scream that made the rest of the crowd turn their attention towards her. Without fail Cecilia dashed towards the door picking up her coat and her daughter along the way. Tom stared in disbelief which simmered down to a disarming smile to his guest cueing the music to resume the rest of the party.

He could feel someone eyeing him and followed the stare over his shoulder. It was his son whose gaze held him for a few moments before disappearing. Tom made his way through the crowds to follow him. He didn't knock this time when he reached his room.

"Go away."

"No, not today Tom," his father took a seat next to his sprawled body on the bed, "Look at me when I'm talking to you."

He gave his father a sideways glance before plopping his face back down on his pillow. His father most likely noticing his eyes had turned red did not bother to ask him again.

"Tom, what's wrong?" His voiced was brimming with concern.

"I did it!" Tom blurted evident to his guilt of concealing the situation. His father rubbed his back before chuckling.

"You mean to say you gave Cecilia the boils?"

"Yes," Tom replied now on his back which enabled him to speak more coherently, "I dunno how it happened but I was staring at her and then it happened…I didn't like the way she was treating you and I did it."

His father's face was now serious and he urged Tom with a hand on his back to follow him which Tom did obediently. They walked passed the crowd and to the conservatory where his father gesticulated for him to sit, "I have to speak frankly with you Tom," he continued calmly clapping his hands together and pressing them to his pursed lips, "It's about your mother."

"Mum…?" Tom looked at him quizzically or rather was it suspicion his father discerned in his tone whatever the tone Tom Sr. decided to ignore it and moved on.

"I told you that your mother died giving birth to you that part is true but I also told you that she came from an aristocratic family…"

"Did you lie to me Dad?" His father did well to mask his guilt but his eyes faltered a bit before continuing.

"Yes…Your mother belonged to a very poor family who lived near my manor in a small cottage. Your mother was Merope Gaunt and she lived with her father and brother."

"Why are you telling me this now?" Tom's voiced sounded a little annoyed at the unimportance of the conversation.

"Because, Tom," his father's tone becoming as little annoyed as his son, "your mother had the same unique quality that you admitted to acquiring. I believe it had to do with her family origin but I am still uncertain of what it all means."

"Could Mum have been a witch like those stories you've read to me?" Tom Sr. was taken aback by his son whose voice steadily rose after he had told him that he might have possessed the same quality as his mother.

"I—I don't know," and he told the truth, in that realm of unknown possibilities how could Tom Riddle Sr. with reason tell him he is something he doubted even existed.

"Oh."

That, his father knew was the mark of disappointment. But it didn't end there. He bent down in front of his son and looked him straight in the eye. He had never given Merope a chance to explain herself or how he had come to be her husband and become the father of her child but he was not going to make a mistake like not believing in someone who loved him again.

"Tom I promise you that if your mother was a witch, we'll find out. You and I will do our research…I'm sure your right." Tom Sr. hesitated before uttering the last words but something confirmed within him it was true. Faith, maybe.

"Oh, yes! I almost forgot!" Tom watched his father pick up a box behind one of the plants and handed it to him excitedly.

Tom uplifted by his father's resolve on the topic of finding out more about his mother ripped the box enthusiastically and pulled out a green jumper he frowned, "Again?"

"My father always said a practical gift is always the right gift for a gentleman," his father gesticulated with the wave of his finger while his son raised an eyebrow at him as if his father had just spewed out madness.

"You should be grateful."

"I am," Tom smirked and his father smirked back it was almost telepathic the connection they had. Tom and his father talked in the conservatory for most of the night until the time when they had to be present for the countdown which reminded Tom it was a new year and his birthday was now over.

**A/N:** **Most of this chapter is written in Tom Sr.'s perspective it will change dramatically in the next chapter and the following chapters after that. Please Review! Constructive criticism and encouragement is always welcome!**


	3. Chapter 2: The Place of Two Doors

**A/N:**Thanks again to my loyal reviewers _**Notwolf, Tambrathegreat**_**, and **_**Phoenix Fire-Power. **_The journey to Hogwarts and the following years is about to begin thank you for keeping up with the story and giving me some positive feedback and I believe hopefully your questions will be answered as the story goes on. And thank you for those who have been reading this, very much appreciated.

**You might find this chapter moving at a fast pace but of course everything happens for a reason.**

* * *

**Chapter 2**

**The Place of Two Doors**

Tom leaned comfortably on the wall his hand instinctively dug into his pant pocket feeling around for the locket. His shoulders loosening up as his hands brushed against the chain and quickly pulling it out, he put it over his head and hid it under his shirt. He could hear the door slam down the hall and the footsteps advancing towards him. He rolled his eyes.

"Tom! Follow me we're going home!"

Another birthday had rolled around and Tom was now eleven years old and another summer was near much to his father's relief he thought. Tom had become prone to rash attacks on his fellow schoolmates and had become much more withdrawn from the other students who came to fear him. The school nurse was now working over time some weeks to cure the most peculiar of incidents: boils, outbreaks of pimples, cases of yellow skin, leech hair, and pig snout. No one blamed Tom, of course but they did not appreciate his say in all of these 'incidents'.

This time however his father had not come to the headmaster's office to discuss these freak incidents. This time was different. The school wasn't very far from their house and at the first chance Tom Sr. got he shoved his son through the door.

"My son!" He exclaimed, pulling his son's arm roughly lifting him to his feet, "Look at me!"

Tom Marvolo Riddle shot a glare at his father, he had grown to be almost level with his chin, his face contorted in anger and he writhed mercilessly against him nearly toppling on the floor he caught himself and dashed up the stairs.

His father headed in the opposite direction to his study for a drink, brandy, no—scotch, yes. He let the liquor work its magic and satisfied he sat back in his armchair. He grinned remembering the olden days when his father would punish him with a riding crop for getting into fights with the local boys. _Tom has it much easier_, he thought. His smile reverted back to a frown. His mind drifted back to the headmaster's office.

_"Your son…I had never had a reason to suspect him before but this was definitely his doing Mr. Riddle…Its ungodly what he's done to Edward…I don't believe he'll be in for at least a month. I'm sorry Mr. Riddle."_

"Mr. Riddle?" Emma stopped at the door peering in to see Tom, pensive, his brow wrinkled with a clenched fist to his mouth. He did not answer her. Once she had left his eyes softened a little.

_"Make a wish Tom."_

_"Okay, um, I wish to be as big and strong as you papa!"_

_"No, no, you're not supposed to say it out loud."_

_"Oh."_

_"Don't worry Tom I'm sure it will come true either way."_

_"Good!"_

Tom swirled the glass around with his free hand and turned his head to the side, "Emma, what is it?" She had been standing idly by the door, "A phone call sir." He sighed and pushed himself up walking past her.

Tom Jr. watched slyly as his father exited the study and then a few moments later returned to the hallway taking up a coat before heading outside. He took this opportunity to head out to the local library himself. The familiar click as he opened the door rang in his ears clearly and as his front view of the city widened so was his sight of a gray haired man wearing a bright purple suit and half moon glasses smiling up at Tom who was quite oblivious at the moment of what his presence would mean for him.

* * *

"What's happened? ...I see…no, no don't worry I'll fix it. Hush now…please. Don't start crying…its quite embarrassing Patrick." Riddle Sr. half smiled before setting down the phone. There seemed to be a problem at work almost every time he was not there himself. It was not an ideal time to be spending his day off at the bank but he grabbed his coat and tried unsatisfactorily to walk out the door with enthusiasm.

His trip was cut short by a man in a purple suit outside by his steps looking straight at his house. It was threatening almost and Tom took a moment to inquire the fellow, "Excuse me sir, may I ask if it is possible you are waiting for someone here? I know most of the neighbors…"

"I'm here for your son," his voice was heavy but educated and he spoke merrily and quite frankly was blunt which left Tom confounded.

"Sorry?"

"Oh, there's no mistake Mr. Riddle I am here for your son. I'm a professor at Hogwarts, School of Witchcraft and Wizardry and I am here to talk to your son Tom Marvolo Riddle."

Tom turned his head sharply from one side to the other seeing only a few cars passing and a couple of children on the other side of the street he looked back at him and squinted, bringing his head closer to the weirdly dressed man. "Who are you, again?"

"Forgive me, I haven't introduced myself formally," he bowed very low which made Tom even more uneasy. "My name is Albus Dumbledore."

"_Albus_?" Tom repeated as if the name was a foreign country to him, "Albus…you're a _wizard_?" The last word came out barely in a whisper.

Dumbledore only nodded with a smile and almost involuntarily for an instant Tom frowned.

"I apologize…Albus," Tom looked at his wristwatch and it was already ten minutes after the time he gave Patrick of his arrival. "Please, just stay here Albus I will be back quickly. Just don't go inside the house." He smiled awkwardly before turning around and half walking and half sprinting headed to work Dumbledore's eyes following him until he turned a corner.

Tom's mind was now disorientated as he walked the streets of London his thoughts racing from Dumbledore to his son and on occasion to his former wife, Merope mostly wondering what she would do in the same situation. A school…There was an actual school of Wizards? Maybe Merope had gone, maybe his son would be accepted, of course, he always had the top grades it wouldn't be a hard decision. Then there was more than just a few people with these gifts? Of course there were.

"Hey! Watch where you going, eh?!"

"Please forgive me," Tom bowed repeatedly and the man eyed him strangely his gaze studying him for a few seconds, his eyes suddenly widening in recognition.

"By God, Tom Riddle, from Little Hangleton!"

Tom recognized the man himself, "George?"

"Yes, My God, it's been…eleven years, I believe."

He patted his old friend on the back before joining him for some tea at a local bistro, Tom thought to hell with the bank for once.

"How is Little Hangleton?" Tom considered he would start with a good note but it did not gain the response he imagined when he spotted George's grimace and his head slightly bobbing up and down a trait he always had when he would rather not talk about things.

George paused before answering his hand holding the cup protectively, "Tom, I moved a couple years after you. I thought me and you having our family houses there might grow old with our families together in Hangleton but…" He sipped a mouthful of tea before continuing, "I suppose you didn't hear about…my fiancé."

"Fiancé?" The repetition was only to hint George of Tom's ignorance of the situation which George readily replied.

"Sophia, remember her?"

Tom shifted lightly in his chair, yes he knew her well…knew that when he was a young man she had bewitched most of the men in Little Hangleton and her eyes…like Cecilia, her sister, they were an almost inhuman green. He also knew he had been in love with her once upon a time, adored her, but she was, unlike her sister, spirited, cunning, and insatiable. She loved no one.

"I know what you're thinking," George, of course knowing his friend, chuckled, it would not be the first time anyway, "Sophia didn't love me but our families were of the same mind so since you had been disowned her hand in marriage was rightfully mine."

"So then you moved with Sophia to the city?" Tom tried unsuccessfully to put the pieces together when George frowned again and uncontrollably was moved to tears.

"No, no I wish it was the case Tom I do but the truth is…Sophia was kidnapped a few months after you left. We found her Tom…but God…" He looked up as if the tears would suddenly dry.

Tom now sat opposite him horrified and bewildered, frozen where he sat, "God, what happened man?" Was all he could muster hesitant to hear the answer.

Glancing at Tom as if he were about to be murdered, he cringed, "Sophia…she's dead Tom..."

* * *

Little Tom looked at the elder man grudgingly, he was nearly out the door and now he was entertaining an unanticipated guest. Tom showed him into the drawing room before questioning him.

"Just who are you?"

Dumbledore bowed, "Albus Dumbledore."

"Albus? It's not a name I've heard before…exactly what do you do?"

Dumbledore chuckled heartily before answering, "You're very perceptive Tom. I am a professor at a school that teaches young people like you…_magic_."

Tom contained his eagerness sitting Albus opposite his own chair and offered to get Dumbledore a drink which he respectfully declined.

"So…does this mean that I will be attending this school? Is that the nature of your visit?"

"Yes Tom that is my intention." Dumbledore replied his eyes twinkled at the boy.

Tom exhaled heavily with a faint smile he continued, "When exactly?"

"Next summer you'll get an owl. I've come early to inform you because I must speak with your father and it is very important so I wished to speak with him promptly about your future." Tom hid a sneer at the mention of his father.

Dumbledore twiddled his thumbs scanning the room where they sat as Tom studied him intensely. His presence was the one thing Tom had wished since he had begun his quest to discover his mother's origins. The magic that resided within him he had looked for answers each leading to a dead end. Now his questions had an answer.

"Could—you show me?"

Dumbledore smiled at the boy in front of him, "Of course." He whipped out his wand and pointed it to a vase next to Tom and with a word foreign to Tom it was turned into water and spilled all over the carpet. Tom looked at Albus with amazement and a tinge of envy and then with a sudden fancy wave of his wand Dumbledore assembled a vase of the exact size, shape, and style of the old one.

"I knew it," Tom stated standing up from his chair. The room fell silent for a moment before Tom looked again at the professor.

"My mother…did you know her? Her name was…"

"Merope Gaunt," Dumbledore finished before Tom who sat back down, "Only by name."

"She was a witch though wasn't she?" Tom pressed on.

"Yes, she was part of a wizarding family and had passed on those abilities to you Tom." His eyes fell on the boy again this time it seemed as though he was peering into his thoughts which Tom evaded by standing up again and leaning on the wall next to the door.

Suddenly a loud bang came from the hallway and then a slam as someone's footsteps make large clunking sounds. Dumbledore stood up from his chairs nonchalant as Tom's father entered.

"Mr. Dumbledore, if you don't mind will you join me in the adjacent room?" Tom maintained his calm as he gestured Albus out and gave his son a look which Tom responded with silence and reluctance as he was compelled to head upstairs.

Tom Sr. shut the doors behind him after entering the study.

"I suppose you've met with an acquaintance from Little Hangleton today." Dumbledore's usual smile was now strained and his voice had become much grave.

"I did," he answered curtly before changing the subject, "I wish you didn't enter my house after I urged you to wait, my son, I don't wish you to speak with him unless I am present."

Dumbledore nodded understanding that he had come in the midst of a dispute between a father and son.

"So, I suppose you are not only here for my son but me as well," Tom continued changing the subject for a second time, "I suppose you come to talk about my _brother-in-law_." Tom concluded scathingly.

"Yes," the wizard did not wish to sugar code the situation at hand, it might not have been apparent to Tom Riddle because he was a muggle but it was of outmost importance to the wizarding world. "There is a _man_," Dumbledore begun his voice turned grave once again, "His name is Gellert Grindelwald, a name to be feared in our world. Our government has received intelligence of Grindelwald's presence in Little Hangleton only too late. He had met with Morfin Gaunt ten years ago who later was sentenced to life in Azkaban for murder. It is believed Grindelwald stole an artifact that is an heirloom of the Gaunt family and was looking for something else as well…"

"I suppose the one Morfin had murdered was none other than a woman by the name of Sophia," Tom clenched his fist awaiting Dumbledore's answer.

Tom had been correct she had been dead before Grindelwald had made his visit but it was not the reason Albus had come to see him.

"Grindelwald had taken something else from the Gaunt family home, a child."

"A child?" Tom could not believe it, the image was revolting but he composed himself before opening his mouth again, "What of the child?"

"She has been found unharmed by one of our Ministry's officials which is how we discovered Grindelwald's presence in Little Hangleton all those years ago and without our knowledge."

"So…she's alive…_my niece_," Tom inquired apathetically. There was a prejudice written on his face for the descendent of Morfin Gaunt.

"Yes, she's become the warden of the Ministry and will remain so until she turns thirteen which is why I have come here to speak with you for. Once she turns thirteen she will be turned over to you being her Uncle and closest living relative."

Tom paced around the room his arms crossed and his lips tightened in concentration before directly facing Dumbledore. "First tell me what other business you have here."

"Your son of course, he will be accepted into Hogwarts next year and I have come personally to implore you to consider sending your son to obtain the best magical education and after graduation if he attends he shall have fine job opportunities within the wizarding world."

"I know my son _possesses_ these _talents_, but will they be put to good use?" He averted his eyes as he formed the last phrase remembering what had been said in the headmaster's office only that morning.

"I give you my word," Dumbledore bowed and lifted his head to look into Tom Riddle's eyes with genuine honesty, "your son's talents will be put to good use alone."

Tom and Dumbledore spoke briefly following Dumbledore's promise it was nearly sundown when Tom had showed him out the door and proceeded up into his son's bedroom.

"Tom, come, take a coat, we're going out."

His son's eyes glanced over his book to meet his father's with a serious animosity but obediently followed his father who had already begun to head down the stairs and out the door. Tom Jr. had barely put on his jacket when his father managed to wave down a taxi cab and got in.

"Moorshire Cemetery."

Instinctively his hand squeezed his son's that trembled with anger at his trickery. He didn't look at him knowing that all he would be given was an icy glare that he had already received from him several times through the course of the day.

Once they reached their destination Tom Jr. was forced by the strong hand of his father on his back to move forward. The iron gates were opened and the first sight of tombstones had made Tom shudder and hesitate to step further. He tried to close his eyes but could only avert his gaze elsewhere. When they finally stopped Tom reluctantly glanced at the tombstone.

_Merope G. Riddle_

_Mother and Wife_

'_Familia ante Ceteros'_

_1907- Dec. 26, 1926_

"Familia…ante…Ceteros," his eyes now glued to his mother's tombstone.

"It means family before all others," his father looked down at him his hand clasping his son's shoulders, "It's a promise I made your mother."

Tom Jr.'s eyes reddened and his shoulders stiffened, "And what would that be?" he hissed at his father who jerked him around and kneeled down so now his son was looking down at him.

"That I would put you before all others Tom—" his father's eyes softened he didn't cry but his eyes became glassy.

Tom looked at his father intently searching his eyes but remained silent as his father stood up again. Who noticed rather by chance as he turned his head that his son was shivering as he looked back at his mother's grave.

"Are you afraid of death?"

His father addressed the situation candidly much to Tom's surprise he did not expect that from his dad. "I don't like the idea of her being infested with worms and other ungodly pests in the dirt." He replied abhorred with the obscene image he had created in his mind of his dead mother.

"The body is only the vessel of the soul," his father replied seemingly faraway from Tom, "The soul moves on and the body becomes unimportant. You might not be able to accept death but you must acknowledge it."

Tom gave his father a curious glance and he answered it with a laugh, "You'll never look past it then. Fear of mortality can consume a person." Remembering a passage from one of the titles from his library he added, "_Since all a man gets in this place of two doors is only a heart of sorrow and the giving up of life, he who never lived a moment is happy—That man is at peace whose mother never bore him_."+

He glanced solemnly at his father before brushing off the daunting topic, his mind returning to the wizard he met and spoke with.

"What about Hogwarts?"

Tom could have sworn he saw a frown on his father's face that currently was expressionless.

"I don't think so, Tom."

"And why not?" He glared at his father however inward he felt hurt believing that above all else his father would have wished him to pursue this other part of him.

Tom Sr. did not answer he didn't have an explanation that would not make him the least bit culpable. "I just don't think this school is a good choice for you," he replied thinking how banal that answer was.

His son looked defeated as they drove back home in the taxi after arguing, his father had said he would think it over carefully until the next summer when the letter would arrive.

Tom Marvolo Riddle thought about the verse his father had recited to him in the cemetery as they hovered over his mother's grave his head now leaned against the window and he looked out at the night sky wondering if he had just seen a large white owl overhead. He smiled knowingly.

_Since all a man gets in this place of two doors _

_Is only a heart of sorrow and the giving up of life,_

_He who never lived a moment is happy –_

_That man is at peace whose mother never bore him.+_

* * *

_+The Ruba'iyat of Omar Khayyam _lines 23-26


	4. Chapter 3: Salutations and Goodbyes

**A/N: The first thing I must say is I'm sorry. It has been awhile since my last update but I'm hoping that my lovely reviewers have not abandon me yet! This is a bit of a long chapter and I hope you enjoy it there are a lot of new characters joining the cast most of the names you'll recognize immediately of course. Please read and review constructive criticism and words of encouragement are always welcome! It's very important to me to do my best that you are enjoying each chapter so if you have any questions, comments, concerns tell me in your review! Thank you!**

**Chapter 3: Salutations and Goodbyes**

They were deep in the countryside now, the carriage was drawn by four black stallions invisible to muggle eyes and more importantly from most intruders. It was no longer safe to venture anywhere without the use of stealth. Especially on the road they chose to take filled with enemies of a different breed.

"We've just passed the centaurs," his voice was clear and strong, addressing the hooded person whose head rested on his chest, dark tresses of sleek loosely curled hair was the only visible feature he allowed her to show on their trip. She had been cloaked since they first left for their journey two days back.

"So your plan?"

"You already know, I've told you so many times..." His voice, soft, was slightly laced with annoyance but he managed to refrain himself from anger. Lifting her hood tenderly behind her, revealing her exquisite face to himself. It was like a treat. He wanted to kiss her but she was by far too young. He caressed her cheek instead her eyes fluttering close as he did so. _What a precocious child, _he thought smiling to himself.

"It won't be for long though will it? Your the only family I have..."

"Of course," he hushed her pulling her closer to him her head buried in the crook of his neck. He breathed in her scent, whispering in her hair, "There will be a day when we will no longer have to lurk amongst the shadows."

"Soon, I hope," she managed to say between her muffled cries, and she could feel him squeeze her tighter, it was very much like him to speak without words, which his position did not allow him many.

* * *

Tom's lithe fingers glided across the piano keys instinctively pausing at the exact note which began Beethoven's Moonlight Sonata. His back stiffened as he lifted his chin higher his eyes retracting from the notes to the tall figure of his father by the window. He continued playing until Emma had come in with a tray bearing a singular letter. Tom played with more bravado this time as he watched his father break the seal.

His gaze fell back to the piano keys when his father looked at him.

"You still want to go don't you?"

The music came to an abrupt end, "Yes."

"Then I suppose," his father's austere manner of speaking was beginning to be betrayed by his relaxed features and a faint smile that plagued his lips, "We'll be getting your books tomorrow."

His tone was so nonchalant that Tom had to recollect what his father had just said. Tom Sr. chuckled his arms wide open as his son leaped into his embrace.

"Are you sure, Dad?" his son gave him a questioning look still holding onto his father's arms, his father nodded a wide grin on his face, "I can't stop my boy from showing this--Hogwarts what it means to be a Riddle!"

He ruffled his son's hair which Tom Jr. boyishly resisted and adorably reproached his father of destroying 'one of his best assets'.

Snickering, they were interrupted by Emma, who informed them that lunch was ready however Mr. Riddle had decided it was a special occasion and he insisted on taking his son to Diagon Alley early, a map included with the letter. Tom snatched the map from his father, leading the way out the door and down the street. It was within walking distance as Tom stopped directly in between two buildings.

"This is the entrance," Tom pointed to an invisible building giving his son an awkward smile Tom motioned his father closer, "Look Dad." Tom Sr. squinted the gap between the two buildings now seemed smaller and a shadow seemed to cast over it before his eyes an old pub materialized.

Tom cleared his throat snapping his father out of the stupor he was currently in. Nudging him to proceed his father did only half willingly as he entered the pub. It was a whole new world in which Tom Riddle Sr. felt uncertain and fearful of. His son, however, seemed to fit right in. He shook hands with the owner and asked for directions to the entrance of Diagon Alley.

"Just out this door," the owner said patting Tom's back, the younger boy thanked the elder man turning to his father gesturing him to follow. There was a couple with a young girl ahead of them dressed in elegant black robes they turned to look at the two of them before pushing them aside the young one tapped the brick wall in some random order before the bricks began to move and they were thrust into a busy and bustling alley with various shops and vendors selling out of the ordinary items. Tom's father swatted flying contraptions as they flew by, Tom shook his head.

He decided the first place he would take his father was going to be the sweetshop which was his favorite place to go on his time off. "I don't think they'll have the same sweets I usually buy," Tom Sr. loosened his tie as they neared the shop. The same couple with the young girl were already there with the exception of now two other girls near their twenties. Together they were an extraordinary beautiful lot. However, the eldest witch whom they saw when they first entered Diagon Alley had blond fuzzy hair and a pudgy face with an upturned nose and beady eyes luckily the daughter did not inherit these traits. She was as handsome and dark as her father who looked at Tom Sr. incredulously.

Tom however was unafraid passing the man on his right he stopped him, "Excuse me, son, can you tell me your name?" Tom looked at his father who in turn addressed the man. "His name is Tom Riddle, sir. He is my son."

"Riddle," the elder wizard rolled the word off his tongue as if tasting it before spitting it out, "That must be a muggle name, then." He cocked an eyebrow at Tom Sr. who returned the look indignantly. He was ready to open his mouth but found a hand pressed against his chest and a familiar face smiling at him.

"Please, Pollux, no need to be so unpleasant," turning to the man who quickly became silent nonetheless admonishing her choice of clothes with his eyes. She was dressed very much in the muggle fashion, her hair was cut right below the ear and shined in little waves, she wore a beige suit her skirt right under the knee with a black velvet tri-cornered hat.

"She's right Uncle," one of the young girls accompanying the couple spoke, her looks were slightly different from her companion, she had long red hair and blue eyes, she extended her hand out to Tom Riddle Sr. with a smile, "My name is Lucretia Black, Cedrella is a cousin of mine."

Cedrella nodded in approval and raised her brow at the rest of her extended family including her youngest relative. "Walburga," a hint of warning in her voice.

Her brown eyes refused immediately but she extended a forceful hand to the young Tom Riddle who accepted with equal reluctance.

At the end of their formal introductions, the Blacks were eager to excuse themselves from their new company which Cedrella refused and the pudgy face woman insisted. "Cedrella, please decide whether you will be joining us for lunch _soon_."

"Irma, I think it would be polite if we invite our new friends as well."

"Please, there is no need to insist on my account," Tom Sr. interjected his son already straying away from them inquisitively looking at the various unnatural candies. Cedrella huffed, "Lucretia and Cassopeia can come with me then, I invited them." The former agreed and the latter obliged after some time finally they broke into two groups.

"Thank you Cedrella but there was no need really," Tom chuckled nervously as she patted his back.

"It's alright I really didn't want to spend time with them anyway, it was Lucretia and Cassopeia that I was expecting." She gestured towards the two girls who were currently entertained with his son who was doing wandless magic with the jellybeans.

"I think this might be best for him, to spend time with people like him," he mused as they walked out of the sweetshop the others following a few steps behind.

"Don't think that Junior will stop loving you now...but yes it is better he will receive the education he needs don't fret about that."

"No...I won't fret," Tom chuckled, Cedrella was very comfortable to be around, it made him breathe easier which reminded him that Septimus did not accompany her this time. She read his mind quickly and smiled.

"I can't take him anywhere near my family I fear. Septimus is not the man my family intended for me. Oh no, not that blood traitor..." she stopped and looked at Tom who was clueless of its meaning, "A blood traitor is a person who belongs to a wizarding family whose mother and father are both wizards but associates with muggles or what my family calls 'mud-bloods' which is a nasty word for wizards and witches who come from non magical families. Septimus is a good man though a Weasley, which my family abhors."

"I can understand that," Tom continuing seeing Cedrella's facial expression change to solemnity, "us 'muggles' have similar beliefs I was an aristocrat and if I hadn't been with my wife who was a witch I would have been expected to marry someone of my own status."

Tom and Cedrella looked at each other in brief understanding before Tom Jr. tugged at his father's sleeve, "Lucretia and Cassopeia said we've passed the restaurant, weren't you looking?"

"Sorry," Cedrella winced turning around and following the girls into the restaurant as they took their seats, Cassopeia initiated a conversation with Tom Sr.

"I am sorry for my elder brother's rudeness but I find your son is very gifted with magic, could you tell me who his mother is?"

"Cassopeia!" Cedrella explained disapprovingly and Cassopeia threw her a haughtily look before turning back to Tom who was obliged to answer.

"Merope Gaunt."

Cassopeia looked at Tom dryly, "I see, well as I said your son is very talented I hope when he attends Hogwarts he might associate himself with our family. We are very respected at Hogwarts..."

"What my cousin is trying to say," Lucretia continued clearing her throat, "is that she would like Tom to feel welcome at Hogwarts."

"I, thank you and your family for their regards to my son," Tom smiled looking directly at Lucretia who blushed momentarily before averting her gaze to Cedrella. Soon everyone found themselves in conversation while Tom Jr. eyed his surroundings they sat near the window which he peered out of noticing the busy streets and the many shops where articles of clothes and magical items might be found. He wondered constantly when would be his chance, when would he get to learn more powerful magic more exciting things about himself. His thoughts crossed every direction until he found himself thinking about Professor Dumbledore the man who had come to speak with his father. He remembered the way he had smiled with his eyes as if he could read his every thought as if he knew.

His eyes focused again on the street and instantly they were drawn to a man in dark blue robes and a very tall hat he could make out his side profile, the slightly crooked nose and the half moon glasses.

"Dad," he tugged at his father's sleeve but kept his eyes on the man outside afraid to lose him, "look out the window its the Professor."

"Your right Tom, I'm afraid I'll have to leave you ladies, its very urgent that I speak with the Professor." They walked out shortly and Tom Jr. noticed that the Professor was not alone as they drew closer. A young girl was stuck at his side her robes were a velvet emerald green her hood hid her face her loose brown curls were the only thing visible from under her hood.

"Mr. Riddle," Dumbledore's voice was filled with surprise and delight which Tom Jr. had to question when his father shook the elder man's hand, "I was shopping for my companion here, its good that you've come today you can finally meet her."

"Porphyria," Dumbledore patted her back gently she pulled back her hood her eyes shied away from them. His father was the first to react kneeling down on one knee putting a hand on her shoulder which forced her to look at him but not with reluctance when he smiled at her.

"Porphyria, that's your name," Tom Sr. gazed at her in awe, she was the image of her mother, Sophia, "you look exactly like your mother, she was beautiful with those same green eyes."

"Porphyria, this is your Uncle," Dumbledore added encouragingly before averting his attention to Tom Jr. who was still uninformed.

"Tom would you like to meet your cousin?" Dumbledore pulled the two young children's attention to each other.

Porphyria eyes scanned Tom and he looked at her narrowly they were the last descendants of the Gaunt Family Dumbledore thought he would have to watch them closely. From the group he was the only one informed of the bigger picture in which Grindelwald the most powerful dark wizard living was involved. He would have to protect them both.

Hogwarts drew near for both of them. Shortly it was soon time for the train to Hogwarts to leave the station the first year for Tom Riddle Jr. and the beginning of a new chapter in his life. As they stood on the platform he was felt more alive than anything else his father was another matter entirely. He looked like the loneliest man in the world saying goodbye to his son.

"You've got your lunch from Emma?"

"Yes."

"All the new books and clothes I've bought you..they've been packed?"

"Yes."

"Anything else you might have forgotten?"

Tom sighed heavily, "Dad, please."

"Right," his father smiled awkwardly before patting his son's back, "Goodbye then. Write to me when you get there, that's why I bought you that incredibly pricey owl...I still can't believe I bought it for that much."

"Dad," Tom whined and his father stood alert, "Right, then. Goodbye son." He turned to go but found himself turning back again his son however was quicker, hugging him at the chest, his head was now level with his father's chin and it was awkward at first but he hugged his son back almost he thought with as much love as a mother.

He wanted to say a couple of words but found Tom was already boarding the train and with a glance backwards he was off his father waving goodbye until the steam from the engine blocked him from sight.

The train took off at full speed and Tom with his knapsack searched for an empty compartment. He found one next to another compartment that that was full of chattering girls and a couple of guys one girl he recognized as Walburga who threw him an icy glare. He sat in his compartment alone for awhile slowly pulling out his lunch until a girl knocked on the door he opened it and he immediately recalled her name, "Porphyria."

"Can I sit with you?" Her voice was quiet but curteous and he gestured her to sit down, she sat opposite him and eyed his lunch.

"I don't know if you recognize this," he handed the bottle to her, he decided it was easier to be polite to her she was family after all, "Root Beer."

"Yes, I had it once," she looked at the bottle intently before looking back at him, "Do you mind?"

"No, you can have it." She twisted the cap and drank a little, Tom eyed her hesitantly.

"Did your parents...teach you magic?" Porphyria drank the rest of the bottle's contents before answering.

"I haven't got parents I only know that my father was a Gaunt and my mother's name was Sophia and I look just like her."

Suddenly they were interrupted by a loud thud and the compartment door opened with a harsh bang.

"Is it alright if I sit here with you two?" A boy about Porphyria and Tom's age asked meekly, he was short for his age with messy unkept black hair his brown eyes darted from Tom to the girl opposite of him in urgency. The group from the compartment next door laughed and giggled and the boy instantly turned red in the face which was covered in soot. A spell that had been miscast.

"I tried to impress them with a spell I learned," the boy sat down next to Porphyria who had made space for him to sit. They closed the compartment door to avoid the glares from the other side. "I guess it didn't work."

"What's your name?" Tom interjected and the boy waved his hand in apology.

"Sorry, Alphard Black," he extended his hand which Tom shook in the way two gentlemen would, "and yours?"

"Tom Riddle," He replied politely before gesturing to the girl next to Alphard, "and my cousin, Porphyria."

Porphyria calculated him with her eyes before extending her hand and politely adding a 'how do you do'. Alphard reacted with a fierce blush across his face and for the two time their compartment door was rudely opened. Two tall boys smirked at Alphard wickedly snickering from the other compartment was overheard. They all seemed to ignore Tom and Porphyria as their antagonisting looks were directed towards the smaller boy.

"Come on Alphy, Avery was just being a bugger," one of the boys spoke coolly, his shoulder length brown hair swayed as he motioned Alphard towards the other compartment. The other boy was using his shoulder as an arm rest and threw Alphard a cold stare. He was the sharper looking of the two with his sleek dirty blonde hair gelled back. "Alphy just needs to learn, Lestrange. Learn how to be a proper Black."

"And what exactly is a proper 'Black'...?"

The two boys were caught completely off guard looking perplexed at Tom who sat calmly pressing a handkerchief to his mouth dabbing at the crumbs from the cookies Emma had made him that morning.

"And what is it to you? Your name please." The last sentence had come out more as a demand than anything else from what Tom guessed as Lestrange.

"Tom, Tom Riddle."

"Riddle?" The sharp looking boy scoffed, "Yes, I remember Walburga mentioned this git, the one with the mudblood father. Her aunt had said he possessed 'unbelievable magical quality'!"

Tom clenched his fist but looked calmly at the two who were smirking maliciously at him while Alphard looked on nervously and Porphyria stared in disinterest.

"Jealously, is that the tone I connote from your choice of words?" Tom asked politely which infuriated the boy who had just insulted him. He thought the Lestrange boy was wise when he held him back claiming he was just a first year anyway and persuaded him to leave the group alone.

"Just so you know, my name is Frederic Rosier, you won't forget it first year," his tone hinted that the statement was a warning which Tom simply chose to ignore. He was surprised when Porphyria raised her head and looked at the two boys and with the same amount of warning in her voice said: "And just so you know, his name is Tom Riddle, I'm sure you two won't forget it."

They both scowled but found they could not do anything instead their faces were flushed and they mumbled as they walked out of sight. Tom looked at her appreciatively and for the first time he saw her smile for a few seconds before she noticed what she was doing. Alphard on the other hand was ecstatic and sat next to Tom in pure delight.

"It's really amazing what you did! I never saw anyone stand up to Lestrange or Rosier before and you took them both! Truly wonderful to watch!"

"It was nothing really. They were annoying that was all...ruining my lunch," Tom played it cool but inside he enjoyed Alphard's praise, he didn't have many friends back home much less did they praise him for such things. Porphryia seemed to notice this.

"I doubt those boys will be bothering you again Alphard," she smiled again this time at Alphard who blushed in return and nodded quickly in agreement.

There was a knock on the door and Tom hesitated to open it he barely had his hand on the door when it was thrown open and a girl with a tight bun and a very strict looking face peered inside.

"Have the group in the other compartment made any commotion in here? As you are first years I will not accept that kind of behavior from other students even if their last names are Rosier, Lestrange or Black. Hello Alphard."

"Hi Minerva," Alphard waved with little enthutisiasm to her, his motion appeared a bit fearful.

Minerva eyed both Porphyria and Tom and shook hands with both of them with a 'how do you do' and an informal introduction and welcome before exiting.

"She comes off a bit strong at times..." Alphard laughed nervously scratching his head struggling to come up with another topic. "We're nearly there soon we'll have to change I'll get some sweets before we go." He excused himself leaving the two again as they started by themselves.

There was a silence before Porphyria stood up and Tom looked up at her, "Are you leaving as well?"

"Tom...you've never met your mother have you?"

"No," Tom's throat grew dry as Porphyria sat now closer to him and for the first time he was at a lost for words, "She died giving birth to me." He had never spoke so openly to anyone he felt his heart palpitating through his hand which sat idly on the seat next to Porphyria's leg.

"I never met my mother either nor my father, your mother's brother. In that sense we are the same." Her hand covered his temporarily before he recoiled it.

"So what had happened to you all those years?" Tom stared at her heavily and her eyes lit with insurmountable joy avoiding his stare moving on to the view in front of her of the empty seat.

"I have been with the most powerful wizard in the world, Tom."

He crossed his arms his features completely stoic but from the corner of his eye he could see Porphyria covering her mouth to suppress her laughter. "Come on Tom don't tell me you don't crave it as much as I.."

"And what shall I be craving?" Tom asked with fake politeness.

Her emerald eyes lit up again in the same fashion, like green flames burning brightly in the night, "Power."

Alphard entered the compartment dressed in the school uniform as Porphyria exited to change her clothes. Tom stayed to listen to Alphard's story but heard none of it afterwards getting dressed in the Hogwarts attire he admired how the rich cloth felt on his body before leaving the train to meet the other students on the platform. The Ferry ride did not take long and Tom had ample time to take in the view of the castle from the ocean. It was picturesque. He the same boat as Alphard but Porphyria was nowhere in sight.

For much of the journey to the castle grounds Tom ignored his companions cheery banter. His interest was now strictly on the decision of the Sorting Hat which Tom understood to be the magical entity which would choose the house in which the student would reside based on personal choice and characteristics. It was a clear draw between Ravenclaw and Slytherin for him. Alphard had just been sorted into Slytherin and the line started to move faster as time went on. He next name Tom allowed himself to overhear was Porphyria Gaunt.

The Slytherin Table grew very still, the name seemed to grab everyone's attention at that table. The hat had only been on her head for a second before it shouted: "SLYTHERIN!" A thunderous swarm of clapping welcomed Porphyria has she took her seat at the Slytherin table. Another name that interested him was Abraxas Malfoy, a boy with a fair but arrogant face strutting towards the hat and immediately was sent to the Slytherin table. A few ravenclaws, many hufflepuffs, and some Gryfindors later Tom was called to the seat.

The hat looked at him intensely and with a smirk which Tom evaded as he sat and the hat was put on his head. It did not speak to him like the other students and called out "SLYTHERIN!" with more gusto than any of the other students. There was loud clapping but the faces of the Slytherin's sitting at the table studied him with reserved bigoted expressions on their visages. He sat in between Porphyria and Malfoy, a huge gap was between them and seemed to go unnoticed. He was now opposite Alphard, and the group whom he had come to despise on his trip.

"I wouldn't have expected you to become a Slytherin, Riddle, was it?" Lestrange smirked at the boy menacingly. Rosier clasped a hand on his arm and with much surprise to Tom smiled at him.

"Forget it Raphael, he's one of us now, let us include him."

"Include who?" Another boy jumped into the conversation his arm still around a girl Tom momentarily caught a glimpse of and recognized as Walburga. This boy shared the same sharp look as Rosier but with a more wayward air.

"He says we should include this first year, Tom Riddle," a freckled face boy with glasses looked up at Tom from Rosier's other side, he was reading a book but now had his attention on him. He was the first to offer Tom a handshake.

"Mulciber, no need to call me by my first name I don't care for it much."

"Nor I Tom," the boy who was holding Walburga now extended his hand with a grin, "Avery."

"How about your friend over there, are you related?" Avery continued and Lestrange elbowed him on the arm, "Ow..I was only making conversation."

It took Tom a moment before he realized they were talking about Porphyria, he really didn't know much about her himself which was awkward that being her cousin. He did not hestiate to introduce her.

"Yes, she is my cousin, Porphyria Gaunt."

She shook hands with all of them politely and it seemed they were very taken with her, mostly from her beauty but also it seemed her surname which Lestrange addressed.

"So you are both descended from the Gaunt Family one of the purest in of the wizarding world, my family had thought that line had become extinct."

"Obviously not," Porphyria spoke curtly glancing at Tom before looking back at Lestrange, "As you can see we are still here."

"But you are half bloods aren't you?" Rosier's voice was a little less polite, "Halfbloods are as good as mudbloods to us."

Tom nodded in agreement which took them aback, he replied, "Yes, and when has your blood become so pure? I don't believe you could have existed without small taints to your bloodline or have your parents just forgotten?"

Avery chuckled he seemed to be the one of the group with the most sense of humor, Walburga was seething at his arm. "He is brave. I know Walburga here is probably having a fit right now. Prove yourself to us Riddle and you'll have our respect. Only the weaklings believe in titles the strong ones follow power." He stood up before everyone and left out the hallway.

"That's Avery, the model prefect," Mulciber sighed.

"He's a fifth year then?" Tom asked curiously.

"Yes, he's also captain of the Slytherin Quitich team and teacher assistant in Defense Against the Dark Arts. Up for headboy next year too I suppose."

"Does the Professor teach you the real Dark Arts?" Porphyria had spoken very little but each time it always referred to things that lead Tom to question her character. They had not time to speak anymore as Headmaster Dippet excused all the students from the Great Hall to their rooms. Each house was led by a Prefect and the lines stretched across a large expanse.

It would have been easy to lose someone. Tom walked alone his head scanning his left and right watching students as they passed by. Porphyria was beginning to stray from the line towards her left she scooted all the way to other end and escaped through a door that no one seemed to notice. Tom followed quickly in the same direction.

The door was a narrow underground passage which at the end led to the Lake where Porphyria sat alone on the grass. He wondered for a moment if she had known all along where the passage led but decided not to think more of it, it really didn't matter to him. The grass beneath his feet made a crunchy noise the night had been cold enough to create frost on the grounds of Hogwarts.

Porphyria looked at Tom sharply her eyes red with what Tom could understand as tears, "What are you doing here?" She growled uncharacteristically.

His eyes narrowed, "You shouldn't even be here."

"Well I am now. What are you going to do, call the school prefect on me?" She returned to her view of the lake not bothering to look at Tom when she addressed him.

"Why were you crying?" The voice was now right next to her and she glanced for a moment at the tall handsome boy at her side overlooking the lake with empty eyes.

"The only person I ever loved left me." She leaned back on the grass now gazing at the stars, "You know I never had a family before...you think you and I will be...close?"

"I guess," he answered unsure of himself, he couldn't fully understand what she meant. He only had his father to admire and respect for so long he didn't know what sort of relationship two persons of the same age would entail.

Tom looked at Porphyria laying down her head in her hands with a small smile on her face and her green eyes lit up he had almost mistaken the glow coming from her chest as the moon's reflection but found that it had been a ring with a big black stone hanging from her neck. He suppressed the desire to touch it.

"Is that a family..heirloom?" He feigned interest as not to startle her or arouse her suspicion. She looked at the ring and immediately grabbed it and hid it back under her robes.

"Its been with me since birth." She grasped her robes that hid the ring from his view, her head flopped to the side where Tom sat she gazed at him curiously. "You know those boys aren't interested in becoming your friend." Her statement was rather cold and brutish Tom knew it was a sign that she was not very good at changing topics of conversation.

"And what makes you think that I am interested in making friends?"

"Doesn't everyone?" Her expression changing to that of sincere misunderstanding. Obviously, his cousin needed to learn a few things about Tom Riddle Jr.

"Not everyone, Porphyria." He leaned back on the grass next to her, relaxing a bit as he looked at the stars, "Don't misunderstand, I might want to make friends but it is not a primary concern nor am I quick to trust and confide in others."

There was a brief pause which ended when Porphyria propped herself up on her elbow her head resting on her palm staring at Tom intently his eyes now closed as he basked in the feelings of the cold night air on his face.

"Can you fly?"

"You mean without a broom?" His eyes still closed, "No." He felt her nudging him and he was forced to open his eyes catching a glimpse of her before she raised her arms high above her head and slowly her feet lifted from the ground. She twirled in the air laughing girlishly as if she were riding a pony for the first time. Tom stared in amusement inches apart from her floating body he looked up at her impressed.

"I'm sure you can do it too."

"And how?"

"Just imagine defying gravity itself, as if all the particles of air are gathered underneath you as if you were stepping on a cloud."

Tom breathed in, half doubting he could actually do it, he had read many books before his first day at Hogwarts, self-levitation was illegal and also extremely difficult to do. However Porphyria had mastered it. She was now nearly two hundred centimeters off the ground. _Gravity does not exist. _He closed his eyes and closed his mind the only thing he could hear was his even breathing and the frequent breeze that rustled through the leaves of the trees. And then he opened his eyes and he was flying.

That night he remember less than nothing of what he had done but more of what he had felt from thirty feet above the ground. The natural intense feeling that made his mind dizzy with emotion, _Power_, Porphyria said, he couldn't help but crave it, desire it, its magnetic pull that would plunge him deep into a place as mysterious and frightening as an abyss. He could feel himself willingly drowning.


End file.
